


Overcooked

by risquetendencies



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Canon Universe, Getting Together, M/M, Pining, School Festivals, Secret Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-05
Updated: 2017-07-05
Packaged: 2018-11-23 09:56:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11400210
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/risquetendencies/pseuds/risquetendencies
Summary: In which Akaashi learns that leaving his feelings to stew can make him feel as ill-at-ease as having an empty stomach. Particularly when jealousy cranks up the heat.





	Overcooked

**Author's Note:**

> Originally written for a drabble request on Tumblr - Prompt #5: _“Wait a minute. Are you jealous?”_

After a miserably hot and largely uneventful seven hours, the school festival had drawn to a close. Keiji was not sad to see it over, though he suspected many of his classmates might feel differently.

The festival seemed to bring out people’s creativity and was perceived to be an exciting break from the monotony of normal school life. For him, it had meant spending extracurricular time planning the details of a haunted house that he’d call mediocre if he was being generous. Since he was a class representative – something he had not aspired to, but had been enthusiastically promoted to by his peers – his role in everything had been expansive. He’d had to take off time from practice to make room for the festival committee meetings. An unwelcome fact.

Yes, he was going to be glad to get back to his usual routine.

Keiji picked up his chopsticks, using them to snare a piece of fried egg from the spread on the table. He ate it gratefully, eyes scanning up and down the row of stalls laid out before him. The grass down the midway was trampled and yellowed. Considering how many feet had trod on it, it was hardly surprising.

His class had managed to get one of the gyms to use, transforming the interior into their haunted house. Out front of the gym doors, they’d built a small reception area, complete with a heavy, dusk-colored curtain shielding what lay beyond the entrance. To either side of them, as well as across from them, various other classes had purveyed their offerings to festival-goers. All in all, it was a good central location, and their class had done well. He had nothing to be dissatisfied with as far as the outcome.

Yet, for some reason, Keiji’s annoyance had been magnifying all afternoon, building up a lump of ill-feelings inside of him that had yet to be dealt with.

He wasn’t sure why he felt irritated.

It could be the heat. It could be noise from all the people – the gleeful shouts of younger brothers and sisters carted in by their siblings to enjoy their handiwork, the giggling and terrified yelps of people braving the haunted house. It could be the fact that in all of their planning, his class had forgotten to assign shifts to who was taking tickets at the front of the house. All day, he had been sharing the duty with the female class rep, and she had disappeared two hours ago on some pretext that Keiji figured was cover for sneaking off to the kissing booth where her crush was holding court.

Whatever the truth was, standing beneath the afternoon sun in his assigned uniform for so many hours had been draining, mentally, physically, and otherwise. Just now, he was finally getting something to eat. It could have been his least favorite dish and he would have accepted it without batting an eye. As things were, it was quite palatable. Better than he was willing to admit, given that the person who’d made the food was sitting across from him.

“How’d we lose to that guy?! Our food was the best! Food always does good at the festival!”

Keiji listened as he finished another bite, this time some grilled vegetables. It was basically the same circular tirade he’d been hearing for the last ten minutes. Every time he got to the end of his evidence as to why the grilling booth should have beaten out the kissing booth headed up by another senior class, Bokuto started in again.

Knowing this tendency, Keiji knew it would continue unless he provided some input. Bokuto could bluster on for hours, if he was given free range to do so. He needed to be heard and responded to in order to close the topic. It wasn’t something Keiji minded. If anything, it allowed him to eat a little while weighing his potential reply, and Bokuto wasn’t offended in the meantime.

After he’d finished a further bite, he spoke.

“Kondo-san is quite popular with all the grades. And if not him, then the others working the booth could be a draw. For many of these girls, it is their only chance to feel close to him. So they’ll happily trade a few tickets for that chance.”

Bokuto stared at him, one eyebrow quirked, mouth still agape from his earlier rant.

“But don’t they get hungry?” he asked.

Love, or something masquerading as love, were higher priorities for some girls than food, was Keiji’s initial thought. But he knew it wouldn’t register as a good argument in Bokuto’s mind. Frankly, Keiji couldn’t imagine forgetting about something as essential as eating either. Especially not after spending all day being restricted from lunch. Yet, his own experience with the other class representative was proof.

“Perhaps they had a large breakfast, and are expecting an equally large dinner when they get home.”

“Okay, maybe, but--!”

“I noticed many girls came by your grilling station, Bokuto-san,” Keiji said cleverly. As he did, however, some swift and debilitating feeling swept over him, freezing the blood inside his veins. He closed his mouth, trying to seem normal on the outside.

That was it. That was the reason.

He knew it as soon as the thought struck.

That was the real reason why he’d been annoyed all day. Not the noise, not the crowds in general. Specifically the number of girls who had sought out Bokuto, sometimes on their own, sometimes in a group, to make their lunch. Usually grilled corn or something else easy to carry, like skewers. Instead of walking around the festival and eating, however, Keiji had noticed they never strayed far enough away from the grilling booth to lose a good vantage to watch from.

Bokuto was somewhat handy in the kitchen, or as it was, on the grill. It was a fact Keiji had heard of, but not really encountered until that day.

In the lulls between people arriving at the haunted house, he’d found himself watching Bokuto. Their booths were by some fate, directly across from each other. So Keiji had had a good vantage himself to watch Bokuto take the ingredients that one of his classmates had chopped up for him and turn them into appetizing meals. Not to mention the showboating way in which he flipped the meat or skittered vegetables around the hot plate.

Bokuto had been having fun, had been in his element. It was hard for Keiji to keep his eyes off him when he was like that. He drew people in. So the girls flocking around like flies were understandable. Just not tolerable.

As the day had worn on with hotter temperatures, his annoyance had peaked, and the whole spectacle had been more difficult to deal with. At some point, Bokuto had lost his coat, revealing the sleeveless shirt underneath. The sleeveless shirt had revealed his biceps, which were on full display as he went about cooking. Keiji wasn’t close enough to watch the sweat roll down them, but he could picture it. And had, for a few seconds, until he came to his senses and realized where he was, and how much he couldn’t afford for someone to notice.

Lately, his feelings toward Bokuto had grown troublesome. Intrusive in almost every waking hour, and so potent that at times, Keiji worried that he didn’t even recognize himself anymore. That somehow, those feelings had turned him into a different, frivolous sort of person consumed with nothing but the object of their affection.

It likely wasn’t that bad in reality, but he still feared the changes that had taken place.

He didn’t have an outlet. Bokuto couldn’t know about his feelings, and it was no use cursing his mind for having them. They were there; fulfilling to mull over at times, and inconvenient at others. Keiji had anticipated something like this happening during high school. If anything, he wished it just hadn’t been someone he was so close to. If he couldn’t have a normal crush – anyone who was a girl, he supposed – it would have been better if it was some distant infatuation, like an idol.

“Oho?” Bokuto perked up on the other side of the table, pressing both of his hands on the surface to spring himself higher in his seat.

“I kinda saw that too, but it was so busy! There were lots of girls? Cute ones?!”

“A-Aren’t they all?” Keiji responded. It was one of the more awkward statements he’d had to make in a while. His hand twitched slightly as he reached for a bite of beef.

“Yeah, there were a ‘lotta cute girls.” Bokuto smiled as he said it, but soon after, his expression turned sullen. “Not as many as _Kondo_ had at his booth thing, though.”

“Perhaps if you were offering something similar…” he began, stopping when something inside him wrenched painfully.

It was fortunate that wasn’t the case, Keiji thought. The outcome would have been much tougher to watch than what he’d stood through today.

“Still, you did gather quite a lot of attention.”

“We sold pretty good,” Bokuto agreed. Across from him, Keiji laid down his utensils.

“Far more than my booth, although I can’t say I’m surprised.”

“At least you got to be out of the heat! I heard they had fans inside that haunted place thing.”

“They did; having a cold interior was supposed to contribute to the eerie setting. I think that may have been why we had as much business as we did. However, Bokuto-san, if you’ll recall, I was outside. I felt the heat as much as you did.”

“Oh. Well at least you were closer to a fan!”

“I couldn’t feel any of them.”

“That sucks.”

“Yes, as did having no breaks. Thank you for saving me some food,” Keiji said, continuing without thinking, “I guess your fans didn’t eat everything after all, did they?”

As soon as he’d finished speaking, he knew it was an unnecessary addition. One he couldn’t stop on its way out, however. His annoyance had yet to dissipate, and given the propensity of girls in their school to show up to games for Bokuto when he playing well, Keiji imagined he’d have plenty to endure later. Now they knew more about Bokuto, had seen more of his good qualities. Even the fair-weather cheerleaders might not drop him as quickly as they had in the past, now that they knew he could do more than spike a ball.

“You really think they’re fans now?!” Bokuto clamored.

“What else do you call it when they stand around to watch you after you’ve made them their orders?” he answered bitterly.

Bokuto placed a hand under his chin, finger pulling at his lips in thought. “Maybe they’re-” his eyes widened, shifting to look directly at Keiji. “Hey!” he burst out, “You’re jealous, aren’t ya, Akaashi?!”

For the second time that afternoon, Keiji felt like he had ice for blood. The accusation swam in his head, heightening his fear the more that he struggled with how to answer.

He’d been too obvious. He’d let his feelings shine through the conversation, and he’d done it so carelessly that even Bokuto had noticed. Bokuto knew now. This was it, the moment Keiji had wanted never to experience.

“I thought you kept coming back to the girls when ya talked. But it’s cause you’re jealous.”

He clenched his fists, and concentrated on sealing his mouth shut.

Part of him wanted to shout that yes, _of course_ he was jealous. Girls could admire Bokuto as openly as they chose. He’d never have that option available to him. More importantly, Bokuto was delighted by their admiration. He liked cute girls; they made him brighten up and show off. Bokuto liked a lot of girls, not just typical beauties. His interests were clear, and they did not include sweaty, awkward, and jealousy-ridden guys. They did not include him. Or likely anyone else who identified as male.

“I know I got a lot of girls who came over, but a lot of them dig you too, Akaashi! Pretty sure I saw some hanging around your booth-” Bokuto beamed at him conspiratorially. It just made him feel ill.

Keiji stood up from his seat, grabbing his jacket from where he’d discarded it on the bench earlier.

“I could care less if they were.”

Head screaming and stomach turning, he stormed off.

Bokuto knew nothing, and the conversation had gone too far for him to stand it anymore. For those few minutes, Keiji had been fooled. Somehow, he’d thought that, scary as the prospect was, Bokuto had realized his affection. That he’d rebuff him.

He should have known better than that. All this time, Bokuto had never realized. Why would he start realizing things today? Keiji had been careful, after all. The truth wasn’t supposed to come out, and yet, he was livid that it hadn’t. His emotions felt volatile, and it was partially for that reason that he needed to walk away. If he stayed any longer, he could do real harm with the words he said. He didn’t want to hurt Bokuto, even if in that moment, Bokuto’s obliviousness had hurt him.

Keiji sped past numerous booths in their deconstruction phase. Students were still pulling down banners and counting up their ticket take from the day. Tomorrow, the winning class would be announced at an assembly. It wouldn’t be his. It would probably be Kondo’s class, much to Bokuto’s chagrin.

He gritted his teeth. Stop thinking about him, Keiji told himself. For the night, until you can get a lid back on things.

Soon, he reached the school gates. By then, his mind had quieted to a slow roar, similar to the sound of the road traffic hurtling past. Keiji felt drained, and stopped three paces down the sidewalk. Pulling his phone out of his pocket, he stared at the clock readout on the screen.

Bus, or walk? He didn’t have the money for a taxi, convenient as that would have been.

Perhaps the bus.

Opening the browser app, he punched in the name of the bus line and started to comb around for their schedule. He located it a moment later, pulling up the page with a tap of his finger. Then the screen went blue, and a ring tone blasted forth from the speakers. Bokuto’s face sat in a little square on the screen alongside his name.

Keiji’s fingers hesitated, hovering over the accept and reject buttons. He’d walked away for a reason. But Bokuto was trying to reach him. There could be something important he needed to say. And he would likely keep trying until he got to say whatever was on his mind.

Still….

His index finger slid over toward the reject button.

At once, he heard feet trampling over pavement and his name being called.

“Akaaaaashi! There you are!”

Keiji hit the call reject and mutely slid his phone back into his pocket. His eyes fell, studying a jagged crack in the sidewalk. Grass had sprouted through it. Bokuto was wearing sandals, which he had somehow managed to run in. His feet were dusted with dirt, painting a stark contrast to Keiji’s black dress shoes.

“Hey, hey, I didn’t mean to make ya mad. Whatever I said wrong, I’m sorry!”

Keiji watched Bokuto’s feet shift around as he did, antsy and uncomfortable at being the cause of another person’s negative mood.

“I just thought maybe you were jealous. You know, of all the girls. I was kinda surprised, since you never seemed to care about that stuff before!”

“I don’t,” he answered stonily.

Bokuto stopped fidgeting, his feet planting at angles to each other.

“Sorry then, ‘Kaashi. Maybe I assumed stuff, and that’s why you’re upset. Right?”

“No.”

“I said something wrong though. You’re never like this. I’m sorry, whatever it is I did-”

“It isn’t what you said, and you can stop apologizing, Bokuto-san.” The words came out harsh, and Keiji found himself shifting around too, shame licking at his insides. He had to calm down. Settle this conversation once and for all, without exploding.

“I am the reason I’m upset. It was not you. Please don’t apologize for my issues.”

“Issues?” Bokuto asked, a note of confusion to his voice. Though he couldn’t bring himself to lift his head, Keiji had no trouble imagining the expression that Bokuto would be wearing. Seeing it would have made him feel ten times worse than he currently felt.

He sucked in a shaky breath.

“Yes, my issues. I apologize if I caused you to worry. At the time, my reaction was one I couldn’t control.”

“Then it has to be something I said to make ya feel that way-“

“Please, just stop.”

There wasn’t a way out of this conversation without giving in, was there? Either by lying somehow, plausibly, or by going the harder road and telling the truth. Bokuto was proving too insistent. Too ready to shoulder the blame for something that was not his fault. He didn’t ask to be caught in the middle of a vortex of impossible feelings.

Yet, the longer Bokuto remained ignorant of those feelings, the more these tense situations were likely to crop up. A clean cut seemed more compassionate by comparison.

“I was… am… upset with myself. Because I can’t stop wanting you.”

Tears beaded at the corners of his eyes. On rare occasions, he had dreamed of how he would express his feelings. Nothing about the present resembled his dreams. And the outcome wouldn’t either. Of course, he’d always known that bit. Dreams were pleasant corruptions of reality. In them, he’d never been rejected.

“I was jealous. You simply didn’t understand why. That isn’t your fault, though, Bokuto-san.”

Now that he’d said it, Keiji felt strangely empty. If only his feet were capable of moving, he would have walked away.

But then the other feet in his frame of view stepped forward. Stiffening up, Keiji felt arms encircle him, and the weight of his upper body was pulled into a firm chest. Seconds later, he was blinking back the tears that had formed, stinging eyes looking out at the street beyond Bokuto’s shoulder. Shutting them, he succumbed to the embrace, focusing instead on wealth of sensation that it offered. One of Bokuto’s hands wound up at the back of his head, lightly patting it as if to soothe him.

Keiji felt utterly confused as he processed it. But he didn’t dare say a word to break the spell.

The fingers on his head paused.

“Your hair ain’t very soft, ‘Kaashi.”

He swallowed against the lump in his throat.

“…Were you expecting it to be?”

“Yeah, kinda. I think,” Bokuto answered.

Keiji took that next lull to think. One false move, and he could ruin this fragile peace they’d reached. He remained scared, but in the moment, he was also ravenously curious. But he couldn’t push Bokuto too far. He didn’t sound sure enough in his answers.

“Is that something… that you have thought of often?”

“Yeah.”

A soundless noise escaped Keiji’s throat, and his body sagged into the hug ever so slightly. His eyes let loose the tears they held, but they were the last. No more replaced them. If not for the arms surrounding him, he felt he could have easily floated away. Bokuto’s words didn’t settle everything, but they had managed to extinguish so many fears all at once. The rest, as was fair, was probably up to him.

Reluctantly, Keiji stood himself tall again, pulling free from Bokuto’s arms and guiding them back to his sides. Bokuto peered at him in surprise, and Keiji bit back the part of him that wanted to shy away from meeting that golden gaze. He let their eye contact linger for a few heartbeats, feeling warmth crawl up his neck as he settled on the words he’d use. By the time inspiration struck, the heat had flooded the entirety of his face.

Keiji reached into his pocket, fingers looting around until he found what he wanted wedged beneath his phone.

He handed the items over to Bokuto, who took them with an expression that was rather befuddled looking.

“Why ya giving me your tickets, ‘Kaashi?”

Almost out of thin air, Keiji located the remnants of his courage.

“These are all the ones I have. I hadn’t planned to spend them on anything,” he began, floundering a bit. His eyes left Bokuto’s for a second to gather himself, and then swung back, locking on for good. “But, are they enough… to earn me a date with you?”

His face was on fire. For a moment, Keiji felt his terror try to reassert itself, but then he was watching Bokuto’s expression go from confusion to something bright, and if he wasn’t mistaken, the slightest bit cheeky.

“I don’t recall anyone offerin’ dates at the festival.”

“I… see…” Keiji choked out.

“But because it’s you, I think these’ll cover a date. In addition to somethin’ else.” Bokuto’s eyes roamed over Keiji’s reddened, barely-holding-it-together face. “You did say somethin’ about me offerin’ this kinda stuff earlier.”

Bokuto leaned in and kissed him, rooting Keiji to the spot more effectively than any amount of nerves could do. All of him ceased to function, apart from feeling the firmness of their lips on each other. It was more visceral than his most vivid daydream, and he wasn’t sure how to respond at first. As if sensing that uncertainty, he felt Bokuto bring a hand to the side of his face, holding it as he applied featherlight kisses to his lips once, twice, and then a third time before retreating.

Only then did some of his faculties come back online.

“Got your money’s worth?”

Keiji felt too blissful to counter the off-color remark.

“Undoubtedly.”

**Author's Note:**

> OKAY! So this oneshot now has a lovely bit of art to go with it, courtesy of @helical-synodic on Tumblr: [Art Here](http://helical-synodic.tumblr.com/post/162647514380/these-are-all-the-ones-i-have-i-hadnt-planned)


End file.
